


Hold the Pieces of a Shattered Heart

by MarvelDreamer



Series: The Sadness of Soldiers (Oneshots) [7]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Blood, Character Death, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loneliness, MUMZA IS DEATH, Magic, Manipulation, Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Time Travel, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Traumatized Toby Smith | Tubbo, Violence, be careful yall it gets a bit dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:47:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29805864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelDreamer/pseuds/MarvelDreamer
Summary: “What happens to him?” Tommy asked.“He dies.” Death said. “He comes into my realm, broken. No one knows he has died, and no one bothers to learn.”-or-Tommy was killed by Dream. When Dream tries to resurrect him, he doesn't want to go back- but Death shows him what happens to all of his friends should he refuse.Ironic, isn't it. Death herself trying to convince Tommy why he needs to live.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Dream SMP Ensemble & TommyInnit, Philza Minecraft and his wife who is Death, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, a lil bit of puffychu if you squint
Series: The Sadness of Soldiers (Oneshots) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2115954
Comments: 19
Kudos: 499
Collections: Purrsonal Picks





	Hold the Pieces of a Shattered Heart

**Author's Note:**

> IT GETS DARK YALL BE CAREFUL

Tommy opened his eyes. 

The fact that he could open them was a miracle by itself, because last he remembered he was in the prison cell with Dream, on the ground, being hit over and over and  _ over- _

Tommy didn’t want to think about it.

He wasn’t there anymore, it was pretty clear since instead of the dark walls that had seemed to close in on him whenever he looked away, there was a comforting landscape of rolling hills and twittering birds. Where was he?

From down the hill he was sitting on, he heard voices, and though some part of him knew who they were, he still hoped it was Tubbo. That Sam had let him out and he’d just taken a nap, that he was real, and there, and  _ alive _ .

His feet didn’t make any noise on the grass, however real the place looked. It was unsettling, it was, but he still walked towards the voices. His search led him to a quaint little cottage, out of the way and nicely built, the opposite of everything that Tommy had ever made. He liked it, though. Or maybe the laughter from inside seemed better than the silence that he was forced to listen to. When had the birds stopped singing? Had he been imagining it?

He couldn’t be sure of anything. He didn’t even know where he was.

Tommy stepped up to the door and knocked. The laughter stopped abruptly, and from inside a rumbling voice groaned, “I swear if it’s that green bastard again-”

Another voice made itself known, this time so heart-achingly familiar. “Mex doesn’t knock.” The voice was filled with sadness, and it made Tommy sad. That voice wasn’t made to speak in soft tones and sorrowed lilts, it was meant to soar and to sing and to  _ lead _ .

The door opened.

Wilbur stood there, real Wilbur, not some half-assed ghost of his brother. His eyes were filled with shock, and Tommy knew his heart had dropped from the expression on his face and the way that Wilbur raised a hand to search its way through his curls. “...Tommy? What are you doing here?”

If Tommy tried to speak, no noise left his throat the first time. He tried again, this time over the shock of seeing his brother again. His voice was also flooded with emotion and hurt, something that he’d kept hidden from everyone else for so long so that they wouldn’t treat him any less. “What do you think? The bitch killed me.”

“Dream? Dream killed you?” Wilbur lifted a hand to cup Tommy’s cheek, but the teen flinched away. Hands near his face brought too many bad memories.

“Yeah.”

Wilbur’s eyes were glassy with tears that he’d never let himself shed. “Oh,  _ Tommy _ . You never deserved this. Not when you’re so young.”

“And you did?” Tommy asked, the pools in his eyes reflecting the pain that he’d buried deep inside of himself. “You deserved to die, all while we were forced to make a world for ourselves with no one to guide us?”

“You had Phil-”

“Phil?” Tommy laughed, but the giggle died in his throat before it could worm its way out. “Phil killed you and dipped. He doesn’t know me. I’m just some teenager that got in the way.”

Wilbur’s eyes furrowed. “That’s not right- I wrote to him,”

“And he never read the letters.” Tommy ground out. “It was just Tubbo and me. And Dream. Where have you been, if you don’t even know that?”

“Ghostbur was supposed to tell me what was going on,” Wilbur said quietly. “He came back a bit ago with the last message, and now, it’s just me.”

“And me!” Called a voice from inside the cottage, slurred with the memory of liquor. “I’m the best part.”

Tommy laughed, a real laugh, not some half-assed exhale like when he couldn’t bear to force one out. And then Wilbur laughed, and it suddenly hit Tommy that he was  _ here,  _ he was with  _ Wilbur- _ and suddenly he launched himself at his brother and they were both crying, wrapped in the first real hug that Tommy’d had since before his second exile. 

“I missed you, Wil.”

Wilbur held Tommy closer. “I missed you too. I just wish we hadn’t met like this. God, Tommy. You’re so young.”

“So are you.” Tommy reminded, turning to look up at Wilbur. “So is everyone on the server.”

“Not Phil.” Came a voice from behind the two. A feminine voice. A new one. “Phil is much older than you can fathom.”

Tommy brought himself away from Wilbur’s arms and looked at the woman who stood a ways away. “And who are you?”

“I’m Death.” She said simply, and Tommy knew it was true. 

He wasn’t sure which part of her exuded the confidence of the only being who was at the beginning of creation and would be there at the end of it all, inevitable- was it her dress, long and soft, the folds of it whispering of the victims who’d dared to challenge her? Was it her hair, pulled back in a facade of relaxation, but intricately braided and ready for battle? Was it her scabbard, encrusted with jewels and riches that only one of immense power could have, holding a sword of flames and fire? Or maybe, was it the wings? Was it the dark wings that grew from her back and stretched past what she should be able to hold up, a menacing wingspan that could nurture and protect as well as smite down, that let Tommy know that she was nothing other than Death?

“I’m Death,” she repeated softly, walking towards Tommy, reaching out a hand that he trusted for once, “and Life hasn’t been kind to you, I see.”

“Phil hasn’t helped, either,” Wilbur grumbled, and Tommy’s face twisted in confusion.

The woman sighed. “Don’t speak ill of my Angel. He may have his flaws but that was why he was cast down in the first place. I have claimed him, and you would do well to remember the power I hold over this realm. I may be kind to you for your connection to him, but softness has no place where I am from.”

Tommy knew her words were true, but still, he trusted her. 

“Tommy,” She clucked her tongue and met his gaze. “I need to bring you home.”

“What if I don’t want to go back?” He asked, voice breaking. “What if I want to stay here?”

“I can’t let that happen.” She frowned. “What has happened that Life turned on you so harshly?” Her hand touched his forehead, and for a second, her eyes closed. When they opened, no tears filled them, just anger. Not at him, but at all that had broken him.

“I don’t want to go back,” Tommy whispered, tears streaking down his face. “He can’t hurt me here.”

“You were never meant to stay here.” Death’s wings circled him slightly. “This was never permanent. Just a play of power by the man who has delusions of godhood.”

“Then why let him win?” Tommy’s voice grew a little louder. “Why let him control me?”

“Though he isn’t a god, he’s got one on his side. As I have chosen my Angel, Life has chosen his Runner, capable of outrunning even Death. He has forced my hand- I cannot interfere or he will learn of my existence. He has yet to know of the power he could hold, and should he,  _ your _ existence would be much worse.”

“Please don’t make me go back.” Tommy tried again. “ _ Please _ , don’t make me go back.”

Death held out her hand for him to take. “Then let me show you what will come to pass should you stay here. Let me show you how they suffer.”

A bright flash of light made Tommy close his eyes, but he opened them once he could tell it had faded. Instead of endless, rolling hills, the landscape of L’manburg was there instead. Jack was there, and Quackity, speaking of a business deal.

“What do you mean, Tommy’s dead? When did this happen?” Quackity asked, voice vulnerable and open.

“Today,” Jack said, looking down. “In the prison. Dream killed him.”

Tommy turned to Death. “This is just now, right? This is normal. Grief, n’ shit. They’ll be fine.”

Death sent him a look, before flicking her hand. They were now in a land Tommy hadn’t seen before, in a house that he’d never had the pleasure of visiting. “They’ll be fine?” She asked, gesturing towards a chair in the corner of the room.

Quackity was there, with Sapnap and Karl. They all looked broken. George was there, a little bit away. 

“He’s dead,” Quackity said, letting a few tears fall. “Dream killed him.”

“Say it again,” George demanded.

“Dream killed him, George,” Sapnap yelled. “Don’t you get it? I told you before, and I’ll tell you again-  _ he doesn’t care about us _ . He’s not the same Dream we knew, and you need to face it! You keep defending him, but at some point, he’ll come after me, too. I threatened him. What’ll you do, then? You’ll go to my funeral and try to convince yourself that Dream still cares? What’ll you do when Dream goes after  _ you _ ? Are you going to die trying to convince yourself that he won’t kill you?”

Karl spoke up. “Let it be, Sap.”

George stared at the crackling fireplace. “Yeah.” He whispered. “Yeah, I’ll die trying to convince him that he’s still in there. I’m not giving up on him. He deserves a second chance.”

“He just murdered a teenager!” Sapnap exploded, barely contained flames spreading across his skin. “He stopped deserving a second chance when he made it clear that he’d want a third. And a fourth. And as many as it would take for us to realize that he’s taking advantage of us,”

George shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you aren’t seeing reason!” Sapnap broke, tears sizzling as the flames made way for them.

“Sap,” Quackity said softly. “Let it go.”

George left the house as the three lovers broke into tears over the one that had held the server together. He didn’t return.

“What happens to him?” Tommy asked, watching the blue shirt fade into the distance.

“He dies.” Death said. “He comes into my realm, broken. No one knows he has died, and no one bothers to learn.”

She pulls Tommy along by the arm to another scene. 

Tommy saw Fundy, sitting on the docks that had been through so much and seen more. His ears were down, his fur not quite as pristine as he always kept it. The fox was swinging his legs and splashing the water with his feet occasionally, but overall, looked okay.

When Tommy went to speak, Death silenced him. They watched.

Fundy stayed there until night had fallen. Then, he let the tears fall. They flowed in abundance, for he’d lost not only his father, not only his grandfather, but his uncle and friend. He’d lost everyone, truly everyone, for the others were strangers to him now. He was all alone, and as he sobbed and screamed into the cool night air, no one answered. No one lived near enough to the docks to hear him, anymore. They’d all moved, leaving him stranded by himself.

“Tell me he’s okay,” Tommy begged, turning to Death.

“He searches for his mother,” Death said, and Tommy thought he caught a hint of softness in her voice, “He searches for his mother, for she is the only one he hasn’t given up on. He gets in a boat and though he must search all of the vast oceans, he does not give up.”

“And does he find her?” Tommy asked, hoping for good news.

Death almost couldn’t bear to continue. “He doesn’t. He can’t, for though he does not know it, she is gone. He thinks that he gets close, though, until…” She thought about how to phrase it. “I am one of the more forgiving gods.” She said instead, “the god of the ocean didn’t take kindly to Fundy intruding.”

As Tommy is pulled from the view, his mind echoes with thunder and crashing waves, the light showing a silhouette of a small boat, with no one in it. Tommy doesn’t want to think about how Fundy dies alone. 

Death beckoned him further, this time to watch Niki.

“I’m glad he’s dead.” She said to herself, sitting on the edge of a giant crater. There are no buildings nearby, so Tommy knew it was the nuke crater. “I failed, and someone else did it. I got the ending I wanted. I am glad that he’s dead.”

Tommy doesn’t like how this was the first time he confirmed Niki was trying to kill him. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, but now, he had no choice.

Niki began to cry. “I just want Wilbur back. I never wanted L’manburg, or Pogtopia, or wars, I just wanted my friendships to survive longer than a betrayal. I wanted to live in peace, and I wanted Puffy to love me.”

The hole echoed with her cries, not mourning for the death of Tommy, but for the loss of Wilbur that still controlled her heart. Tommy understood her hurt, but he still hoped that Niki would have regretted his death at least a  _ little. _

Death altered the vision again, but it was still Niki. She appeared to be fine, but Tommy knew that it couldn’t be true. He used to think of Niki as his older sister, surely she missed him, as time went on.

“Tommy was the source of all our problems,” Niki explained calmly. To who, he wasn’t sure. “He had it coming. I miss him a little, but it was for the best.”

And  _ damn _ , if that didn’t hurt.

Niki had been talking to Jack, who spoke next. “But don’t you see? Revenge wouldn’t have helped us. We’d have been hunted down by everyone else anyway, but revenge wasn’t the answer.”

“Not for us,” Niki shrugged, “But for Dream, it was.”

Jack was silent for a while. “You’ve changed, Niki.”

“And is that a bad thing? I spare myself the hurt of relationships this way.”

“It’s not a good thing,” Jack mutters. “I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Did you ever?” Niki asked, walking away.

Death looked like she was mourning something.

“What?” Tommy asked bitterly. “What’s so sad about Niki’s ending?”

“She lives in isolation,” Death said, “And dies that way. There was no one to warn her of the red vines, and there was no one to mourn her passing.”

Tommy couldn’t help but feel a deep  _ pang _ in his chest when he thought about Niki dying.

Death waved her hands again, and this time, he saw Ranboo.

He was walking slowly, posture curved more than usual.

“He’s got worse posture than I do,” Tommy smiled, pointing.

Death did not laugh, instead just staring. Tommy turned, too.

He watched as Ranboo planted flowers on his stupid dirt house, crying. The hybrid made no movement in acknowledgement of the burns that the tears caused, sniffling as the soil got caked under his claws. His warbles and sobs grew louder, but no one was there to hear them. No one but the two ghosts, invisible to his eyes.

They watched as Ranboo stood up and walked away.

“Just a bit of acceptance,” Tommy tried lamely.

Death sighs, and suddenly he sees Ranboo in the arctic. It’s snowing, but the hybrid is standing in the open, whimpering each time a snowflake melts on his skin. There is a chest in front of him, open, and when Tommy moves, he sees a note attached to it with a single smile. In the chest is one piece of TNT.

“Oh, god-” Ranboo cried. “I caused that. I- I made the lockdown happen-” Ranboo stands up and stumbles back, in shock. Tommy could do nothing but watch as he grew taller and his eyes changed to purple. He’d entered the enderwalk, and Tommy could do nothing.

“What happens to him?” Tommy asked softly, and Death smiles with a hint of sadness.

“He loses himself,” She says, “to the side that he hated.”

Tommy had the feeling that the ending wasn’t finished. “Is there more?”

“He always was one of Life’s most selfless creations,” Death pondered. “He stops himself from harming others, forever.”

Tommy was going to ask how, but his mind flashed with the image of Ranboo, alone in his house, bleeding out on the floor with a blade in his hand. Tommy has the sick feeling that he knows how he died.

Death sends him a knowing look before the scene changes again. 

This time, Tommy saw Tubbo. 

“Tommy isn’t dead,” Tubbo said as if it’s a fact. “There’s no way that Sam would let that happen- no, there’s no way. Tommy isn’t dead. This is some sick prank.” But, there was no one there to listen. Only the snow as it fell, cutting off the boy from the rest of the world.

“Tubbo’ll be fine,” Tommy said weakly. “He’s always been the stronger of us.”

“But was that simply because  _ you _ were there to make him feel strong?” Death asked, pointing to the house that Tubbo had been in.

It was older now, much older. Cobwebs grew in the corners as the roof fell into shambles and dust settled. They moved inside and still, Tubbo was there.

“Has he moved?” Tommy asked, horrified.

“Sometimes.” Death said quietly, watching Tubbo as he sat, curled up against the cold. “If someone makes him.”

“And what happens to Tubbo?”

Death looked at Tommy, and he saw his reflection in her eyes. “Well, what would happen if  _ you _ lost  _ Tubbo _ ?” When Tommy made no move to answer, she did, instead. “He sits, waiting for me or you. When he hears of the death of his husband, he has nothing left to live for, and does not try to keep me at bay.”

Tommy’s soul ached.

Death kept speaking. “He enters my realm, shattered, and it’s too late for you to put together the pieces.”

“Stop showing me these,” Tommy said, tears welling up.

“You need to learn what happens.” She said firmly, and suddenly all Tommy sees is flashes, flashes of Karl Jacobs, the protector of time, though he does not know it. 

Karl tries, hundreds of times, to prevent Tommy’s death. It still happens, regardless, no matter what he does, in worse and worse ways. Karl dies in some of them, but it never sticks. Karl tries so hard to fix it, at the expense of himself, and Tommy swears that once, their eyes meet. 

Nothing good lasts forever. 

Eventually, Karl gave up and succumbed to the fact that there was nothing he could do.

“What happens to him?” Tommy asked, broken.

Death spares Karl a pitying glance. “Without someone to monitor the server, it falls apart. This might be the largest tragedy of all of them- without the warrior of time, the vines fill the server, and everyone dies.”

“Everyone?” Tommy asked, voice quiet.

Death looked him in the eye. There is no escaping that look. “Everyone. They all enter my realm, including Life’s Runner, and the story happens over again. The same show, a different stage. And this time, no one can escape him. Not even my Angel.” She put an arm around Tommy, but he shrugged it off.

“I don’t want to see any more,” Tommy said firmly, but he had no choice in the matter. 

He saw Puffy. Puffy was angry, more than he had ever seen before. She’s staring down Dream, and Tommy can sense her fury.

“You killed him, Dream!” She yelled. “How could you?”

“He called me a liar.” Dream shrugged. “He’ll be back.”

Puffy glared at him. “You don’t get it, do you? You  _ are _ a liar. Every time you’d come home from school and come up to me, all excited, and claim that you loved me, you were lying. Every time you promised that you’d remember all that I’d raised you to hold dear, you were lying. Every time that I looked my little duckling in the eye as you told me that you wouldn’t forget me, you were lying.”

“I do love you, though.”

“No,” Puffy snarled. “You  _ loved _ me. The only thing you love now is power and chaos- and I know that I didn’t teach you that. I never taught you how to be selfish or how to kill just for the fun of it- I never taught you any of the things that landed you in this cell.”

Dream looked up at her. “You did your best. It’s not your fault that your best wasn’t enough.”

Tommy tried to not let the voice get under his skin. “Just get it over with. What happens to Puffy?”

Death looked almost regretful. “I sympathize with this one. Her ending is the one of a mother, but there is no glory in it, and there is no point. She tried her hardest before the end, but her love was a weakness. She was one of the only adults who had recognized the proper severity of your passing, and though she was rewarded accordingly after her’s...”

Tommy could only watch as the red vines crept as the time passed. Death beckoned Tommy closer to a different scene, and Tommy could see two people. Purpled was one of them, and the other was Puffy.

The vines had grown until there was almost no space.

Puffy shielded Purpled from them. “Run, Purp. You’ll have time to escape if I stay behind.”

“But then you’re going to-”

Puffy interrupted. “It doesn’t matter. Go, or neither of us will make it out alive.”

Death stopped the scene. “It gets rather ugly. I don’t think you should see it.”

Tommy objected. “But what happens?”

“You know.” Death sighed. “The vines encompass the server. Everyone dies. It doesn’t matter that she bought the boy a few more days, the ending is inevitable.”

Tommy hurt all over, but Death still led. “I don’t want to see any more,  _ please _ ,” Tommy begged, but Death has never been the certain type of kind that he calls for. Death does what is necessary, and right now, the visions were.

The next one was Eret, all alone in his castle, as the walls crumbled around them. They sat on their throne, with no one to follow them and no one to care. Tommy knew what Eret was thinking of- how they’d failed everyone and how Tommy had been so young, and maybe, if they hadn’t betrayed L’manburg in the beginning, they’d still all be a family.

Defeated, Tommy asked what Eret’s end was like.

“They died to a creeper that found its way into the castle while they were asleep.” Death said. “No one expected it, but then again, no one expected your’s, either. They are mourned, but not as much as they should have been.”

Death paused, and Tommy swore he saw a tear in her eye before she wiped it away. 

The next scene plays, and Tommy sees Phil.

Phil and Techno were sitting at a table, quiet. There’s a paper lying on the table, a letter about Tommy’s passing, but they don’t speak about it. They just sit.

Death spoke softly. “My poor angel, with his clipped wings. His ending is bittersweet, Tommy. He’s lost his wings, his title, his status, but he gets to be reunited with his son. With me.” Death stopped, reconsidered, and fell silent.

“Are we going to watch it? This isn’t really-”

Death turned sharply. “We won’t be watching his. The warrior’s, however? You may want to see.”

Techno stood on a stage, cornered. Vines were creeping and mobs were everywhere. The world was lonely, and he was alone. They shared that. Technoblade, Tommy realized, was broken.

No longer was the fiery fighter with a catchphrase, all that remained was a shell. 

Death spoke up. “Technoblade lingers when all others have passed. He never dies, at least, not at first.”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asked, but he was hesitant to.

“There is a reason that the enderman and Technoblade are so similar, I suppose.” Death mused, and she ushered Tommy along.

“How many are left?” He asked, and Death nodded.

“Just one. The worst of all.”

Tommy stared in horror as he watched Dream stand over him- his corpse- and laugh. He stared as the lava parted to show Sam and Puffy, armed and angry, only to stop in shock at what they had been too late to prevent.

“What did you do?” Puffy demanded, but Sam had already crouched down by the body.

_ His _ body.

Sam gathered his body in his arms. The blood-stained the green of his fur, but Sam didn’t care. He felt numb, and he looked it. 

“I’ll come back for you, Dream.” He said coldly, as he carried the body of his  _ son _ out of the cell that he’d begged to be let out of not even twenty minutes before.

“It’s fine,” Dream laughed. “I’ll bring him back and all will be fine and dandy. You worry too much, Sam.”

Tommy looked at Death. “I think I know what happens. Don’t make me watch.”

But Death did not care.

So, Tommy stood as Sam waited for the resurrection to work, waited by his grave, waited by the door of the prison. He blamed himself, he lost himself to grief and to shame, and he fell deeper and deeper into a hole that he’d never escape. 

Tommy was forced to watch as Sam Nook tore down the entire Big Innit Hotel and stood, waiting for him, until his battery ran out and he died on the side of the Prime Path, a memory of laughter and learning. He watched as Sam couldn’t handle it anymore and let go, exploding landscapes and builds that he’d once cherished, leaving a lingering smell of gunpowder wherever he went. Someone he’d considered a father figure lost himself as Tommy could do nothing but bear witness, until finally, he turned to Death. 

“Just tell me how it ends. It’ll be easier than being forced to watch this.”

And, as Death looked at the child that she was so familiar with, she took pity. “Sam never forgave himself. He waited for you, but once it was clear you wouldn’t return, he turned away. He resorted to destruction, and eventually, it destroyed him. Your cries to be let out of the cell never left him. They played on repeat until it drove him mad, and he had to be dealt with.”

“Dealt with?”

“He threatened the safety of the server to such a degree that outside help was brought in.”

Tommy turned away, but not before he saw a flash of pink hair and the glinting of a sword.

Death stood before him. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Are you going to go back, now that you know what happens should you not?”

Tommy sighed. “I haven’t got much of a choice, do I?”

Death offered him a smile as she brought them back to the landscape of rolling hills. Wilbur stood, waiting, but squinted into the distance.

When Tommy turned, he saw another being, hovering over the ground. It was wearing flowing robes of light blue, and had no head. Instead, a globe of white floated above where a neck should have been, and on it was written ‘XD’. 

“Who are you?” Tommy shouted at it, as it got closer.

When the being spoke, it sounded like Dream. “I am Life. I made you and everything around you, so you would do well to show some respect. I have come to take you back.”

Death stepped forward. “You may take him, but know that he no longer bears your seal. He is one of mine, now, since you have turned from him. He is under my protection.”

Life scoffed. “As if that matters. His story is written, and he will live it.”

“His story is a script,” Death shrugged, “and scripts can be improvised. I will be watching from the shadows, should your Runner step out of bounds.”

“Then keep your Angel in line,” Life snarled. “I had to keep him from the portal.”

“I saw,” Death smiled calmly. “But that’s what happens when you mess with their coding. Memories still linger.”

Tommy sighed loudly. “Just take me back already. I’m getting bored.”

Life turned to look at Tommy, dead in the eyes, and suddenly, Wilbur’s singing that had been in the background was fading, as were the fields around him. He closed his eyes as a bright light started shining, and then, he opened them.

People surrounded him, and he made it his first priority to fall into Sam’s arms, partially to assure himself that this was real, and partially to assure Sam that he was okay. Everyone got some form of affection, except for Dream. Except for those that hadn’t bothered to show. He’d make amends with the others later, once Dream was back in prison to stay until the ends of time.

He was home, and that was what mattered.

He was home.


End file.
